Life’s too short to write long-form. And I’m good at short-form anyway, so here’s my autobiography for the insta age

Age 8 – found this little book my parents received when I was born with very little information completed. Decided to complete it myself. Question: When is the child the happiest? My answer: “When I was little and careless.”

Age 10 – started dreaming of living abroad

Age 12 – wrote a soap opera parody, dreamt of becoming a writer, started fantasizing about how someone might write a biography of my exciting life

Age 13 – cried about feeling old

Age 13 + 1 day – promised myself never to cry about my age ever again

Age 14 – first big dream came true

Age 15 – second big dream came true

Age 16 – went to America, never wanted to go back to Slovakia, but went back to Slovakia, thought I’d never be able to go to America again

Age 19 – left Slovakia, went to Prague, dropped out of university, returned to Slovakia

Age 20 – first identity crisis, dreamt about going to see an oracle. The oracle said: “you’ll have an unhappy life.”

Age 20.4 – left Slovakia again, started living a happier life in Prague

Age 22 – went to NYC to work, dreamt of becoming an immigrant success story, returned to Prague broke

Age 24 – created my first alter ego, Babraque, and an entire universe for her, had some poems published, started writing

Age 30.3 – Felt young and on top of the world

Age 30.3 plus 15 mins – blood was washed off my face, realized life was very short, aged 100 years

Age 130.4 – Went to NYC, de-prioritized becoming an immigrant success story, focused on making it to 131

Age 131 – Back in Prague, broken heart, aged another 100 years

Age 231.5 – Created my second alter ego, True

Age 232 – Another man, aged another 100 years

Age 333 – Moved back to my parents’ house in Slovakia, got my PhD, tried to get out of Slovakia, ran away from the man for good, aged another 100 years

Age 433.9 – started from 0 in London

Age 434 – was unemployed in London

Age 435 – got my first full time job that came with a bully, aged 100 years

Age 536.5 – life started getting better

Age 537 – travelled a lot

Age 538 –travelled no more – the pandemic started

Age 539 – might have cried about my age, then thought, maybe I’m old enough to write an autobiography